


The Angel and Miss Jones

by lachme



Series: The Angel and Miss Jones [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Humor, Screenplay/Script Format
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-03
Updated: 2011-10-03
Packaged: 2017-10-24 07:08:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/260500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lachme/pseuds/lachme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean learns he's not the only one to be resurrected from Hell when he and Sam run into one of Dean's former victims.</p><p> </p><p>I was inspired to explore the christian mythos of Supernatural a little further; if there are modern era prophets, what other biblical figures are currently out there?</p><p>My story is in script format, in the style of an episode of the show.<br/>A few notes-- O.C. means off-camera. A chyron is text over the image on the screen, usually at the bottom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Angel and Miss Jones

**Author's Note:**

> Kripke and Company own the rights to all the characters of Supernatural, but Lexi belongs to me.

“Supernatural”

“The Angel and Miss Jones”

 

TEASER

CHYRON. MOSES LAKE, WASHINGTON.

EXT. - JONES RESIDENCE - ESTABLISHING SHOT — AFTERNOON

Average suburban house in average suburban neighborhood.

INT. JONES RESIDENCE—KITCHEN—AFTERNOON

MRS. JONES, an average middle-aged soccer mom type, is carrying  
a tray with coffee, cups, and cake from the kitchen through  
the dining room and into the living room of her home as she speaks.

MRS. JONES  
It’s not that we’re not glad to have  
her back, Agent Barrett; of course  
we’re thrilled! She’s our baby girl,  
after all. When she disappeared two  
years ago, we prayed that she would  
come back to us.

MRS. JONES sets the tray on a coffee table.

MRS. JONES (CONT’D)  
I thought you young men might like  
some cake with your coffee!

Pan over to the sofa to see SAM and DEAN in their “authority” suits,  
sitting on a floral print sofa.

DEAN  
Yes, ma’am— that’d be great!

As MRS. JONES speaks--

DEAN eagerly accepts a plate piled high with cake from MRS. JONES  
while SAM watches disapprovingly. DEAN takes a large bite of cake  
and gives SAM a “what?” look. MRS. JONES pours and serves the coffee.

 

MRS. JONES  
We almost lost hope six months ago.  
The police found the remains of a  
young woman out in the desert, and  
they told us that they’d positively  
identified her as our Lexi. But I  
just refused to believe it, didn’t  
I, honey?

MRS. JONES addresses a man sitting at a desk in the corner; MR. JONES.  
MR. JONES is a milquetoast; balding, bifocals. He is tying fishing flies;  
the desk has all the accoutrement for fly-tying. MR. JONES is focused on  
his hobby and paying only the barest minimum of attention to the conversation.

MR. JONES  
Mm-hmm.

MRS. JONES  
And I was right, because she’s back;  
she’s come back home to us. Only—  
(hesitates)  
There’s something wrong.

DEAN  
Does she sleep all day now? Or  
disappear all night? Or has her  
appetite . . . changed?

MRS. JONES  
(confused)  
Noooo . . .

SAM  
(swiftly, covering for DEAN)  
Tell us what’s wrong, Mrs. Jones.

MRS. JONES  
Lexi’s secretive now, and she was  
never secretive before, was she,  
honey?

MR. JONES  
Nope.

 

MRS. JONES  
Do you know, she refuses to tell her  
father and me where she’s been or  
what she’s been doing the past two  
years— just flat out refuses to say  
a word. We told her it didn’t matter;  
that we love her no matter what, but  
she just won’t talk about any of it.  
Tell them, honey.

MR. JONES  
(echoing)  
She won’t talk about any of it.

MRS. JONES  
And she won’t stay in her room  
anymore, either. We kept her room  
just as she left it, with all her  
things. But her first night home  
after, she had a terrible nightmare,  
and now she refuses to spend another  
night here. My brother-in-law has a  
motel up the road; the Bali Hi. He’s  
letting her stay there for now;  
isn’t he, honey?

MR. JONES  
Mm-hmm.

A buzzer sounds. MRS. JONES jumps to her feet and hurries into the kitchen,  
talking over her shoulder as she leaves the room.

MRS. JONES  
Oh, my casserole’s done; I’ll be  
right back! Say, you boys are  
welcome To stay and have lunch with  
us—there’s plenty! Tell them, honey!

SAM stands. DEAN, seeing SAM standing, hurriedly unloads the cup and saucer,  
napkin, and plate of cake from his lap and stands belatedly as SAM speaks.

SAM  
Thank you, Mrs. Jones, but we really  
have to be going. We appreciate your  
talking to us; you’ve been very  
helpful with our investigation. I’ll  
be sure to let you know what we find  
out.

As MRS. JONES is clattering about in the kitchen, SAM and DEAN step  
into the hallway and confer privately.

SAM (CONT’D)  
(low voice)  
I don’t know what’s the matter with  
you sometimes, Dean; you’re acting  
like a Ritalin kid on a sugar rush.  
Can’t you be the slightest bit  
professional?

DEAN  
(like he’s explaining to an idiot)  
Dude . . . it was cake.

MR. JONES (O.C.)  
Boys?

SAM and DEAN both jump. They turn to see MR. JONES looking at them from  
his corner of the living room. MR. JONES has removed his glasses, and is  
looking authoritatively at them both.

SAM and DEAN  
(not quite together)  
Yes, sir?

MR. JONES  
Lexi, my daughter. . . she’s a good  
girl.

MR. JONES looks meaningfully at SAM and DEAN, who both nod.

SAM  
Yes, sir.

DEAN  
We’ll do our best, sir.

MR. JONES nods, then fumblingly puts his glasses back on, immediately becoming  
milquetoast again as he picks up a pair of needle-nose pliers. SAM and DEAN  
exchange a glance as they let themselves out.

END OF TEASER

 

ACT ONE

BALI HI MOTEL — ESTABLISHING SHOT.

EXT. – BALI HI MOTEL — SIDEWALK OUTSIDE – AFTERNOON

SAM is leading the way, while DEAN is a few steps behind looking down at his phone.

DEAN  
Bobby’s still not picking up.

SAM  
I’m just saying, if she’s been here  
a week and not turned yet, she’s  
probably not a zombie.

 

SAM stops at a door and knocks.

SAM (CONT’D)  
Miss Jones? It’s Agent Barrett with  
the FBI; your mother said she’d call  
and let you know we were coming.  
(a beat.)  
Miss Jones?

INT. – BALI HI MOTEL — LEXI’S ROOM – AFTERNOON

POV: LEXI. The door opens slowly on SAM standing in the doorway looking  
professional, while DEAN is behind him with his back to LEXI, still on the phone.

SAM (CONT’D)  
Thank you for seeing us, Miss Jones;  
I’m Agent Barrett and  
(gestures at Dean)  
this is my partner, Agent Gilmore;  
we’re with the FBI. Your parents  
told us about your situation; would  
it be all right if we asked you a  
few questions?

LEXI JONES is a pretty, girl-next-door type in her early twenties.  
She is somber and pale; she wears an oversized sweatshirt and has her arms  
crossed uncomfortably in front of her. She frowns and shrugs.

 

LEXI  
Sure; all right.  
(turns away)  
But I doubt if there’s anything  
Useful I can tell you.

LEXI walks back into the room as SAM enters, followed by DEAN. Typical  
cheap motel room; two double beds, one slept in, paper food containers  
on the table. She turns to face the brothers as SAM speaks.

SAM  
You’d be surprised what we might  
consider useful information.

SAM stops in surprise. LEXI and DEAN are staring at one another  
in shocked recognition. DEAN looks aghast.

LEXI  
(to DEAN)  
Have you come to take me back?

DEAN stares at LEXI, unable to speak.

SAM  
(puzzled)  
No, Miss Jones, it’s nothing like  
that; we just have some questions  
we’d like to ask you.

LEXI  
You’re not FBI.  
(to DEAN, softly)  
I know you.

DEAN  
You must be mistaken; we’ve never met.

LEXI  
I know you.

DEAN  
(curtly, not looking at her)  
You don’t.  
(to SAM)  
I’ll be back in a minute; I’ve got  
to . . .

DEAN is so upset, he is unable to think of a lie. LEXI takes  
a hesitant step towards him, her eyes enormous.

LEXI  
You tortured me in hell. Do you  
think I could ever forget your face?  
DEAN  
(growls)  
I don’t know you.

DEAN leaves the room without another word.  
Sam looks bewildered and apologetic.

SAM  
Is that . . . I’ll be right back.

SAM follows DEAN.

EXT. – BALI HI MOTEL — PARKING LOT — AFTERNOON

DEAN is walking to the IMPALA. SAM calls after him.

SAM  
Dean! Is that true? Is she one of  
your--  
(beat)  
Have you seen her before?

DEAN turns. He is clearly freaking out at meeting LEXI; he’s in denial.

DEAN  
I . . . I just remembered something  
I need to take care of, Sam. You go  
back and talk to her, and I’ll meet  
you at the motel later.

SAM  
Dean—

DEAN  
Not right now, Sammy.

DEAN tosses SAM the keys to the IMPALA.

DEAN  
Here, keep the car; I’ll walk.

SAM watches, astonished, as DEAN walks away. He turns back to the motel room.

CUT TO:

INT. –BALI HI MOTEL—LEXI’S ROOM- AFTERNOON

POV- LEXI. Same as before; the door slowly opens on SAM, but now DEAN is gone.

SAM  
Miss Jones, it’s important that we  
talk.

LEXI  
Who are you, really?

SAM  
My name is Sam Winchester.

LEXI  
And his name is Dean Winchester.  
(shudders)  
That’s what the other one called him.

SAM  
He’s my brother.

LEXI  
Are you from hell, too?

SAM  
We’re not from hell, I promise you.  
May I come in? Please.

LEXI hesitates, and then steps back to allow SAM to enter and closes  
the door. They sit opposite one another on the two beds and stare  
at each other uncomfortably for a beat.

SAM  
Miss Jones—

LEXI  
Mr. Winchester?

SAM  
Please, call me Sam.  
(beat; quietly)  
How long were you in hell?

LEXI  
I don’t know. My parents said I’ve  
been gone two years.  
(beat)  
Seems . . .  
(sighs)  
much longer.

SAM  
How did you escape?

LEXI  
I don’t know. One minute I was  
there, the next, I was standing on  
the shoulder of I-90, by the  
Ritzville exit, covered in dirt. I  
hitched most of the way to my folks’  
place.

SAM  
This may sound like a strange  
question, but have you noticed any  
unusual markings on your body? Ones  
that weren’t there before?

LEXI stares at SAM for a beat, then reluctantly rises and goes  
to stand in front of the mirror. She slowly pulls off her sweatshirt  
(wearing a wife beater under) and reveals a handprint on her shoulder  
similar to DEAN’S.

CUT TO:

INT. – HONKYTONK TAVERN — NIGHT

DEAN is sitting at the bar. A beer and several empty shot glasses  
sit on the bar in front of him. SLOW PAN from behind to in front of DEAN;  
he is lost in thoughts that are not pleasant. PHONE rings. DEAN takes it  
out of his pocket, looks at it; we see it is SAM calling. DEAN puts  
the phone away unanswered. He swiftly drinks the rest of his beer and  
sets the bottle loudly on the bar.

DEAN  
Can I get another?

ZACHARIAH (O.C.)  
Is this seat taken, big fella?

DEAN turns to see ZACHARIAH, smiling. ZACHARIAH reaches  
towards DEAN just as he speaks.

DEAN  
Oh, sh---

ZACHARIAH touches DEAN on the forehead.

WHITEOUT.

 

INT. – BALI HI MOTEL — LEXI’S ROOM — NIGHT

SAM is standing at the window, looking out.

LEXI (O.C.)  
So you believe an angel lifted me  
out of hell, just like your brother.

SAM turns. We see LEXI sitting at the cluttered table, picking  
absently at some fries. A burger sits untouched in front of her.

SAM  
The mark on your shoulder is the  
same as his, so it seems likely.

LEXI  
But why me? I mean, I’m not a bad  
person, but I’m no saint. I’m not  
even particularly religious; I’m  
agnostic. Why would an angel rescue  
me?

SAM  
We’re going to find out for you, I  
promise. It’s what we do.

LEXI  
(beat.)  
You and your brother.

SAM  
He’s not what you remember, Miss  
Jones; not anymore.

LEXI  
(musingly)  
What I remember . . .  
LEXI stares into space for a beat.

LEXI (CONT’D)  
I remember he was the first. I was  
there a long, long time, but he was  
the first. And the worst.  
(beat)  
He used to call me his special girl,  
did you know that? “How’s my special  
girl?” he’d say, and smile . . .  
(beat)  
I remember he preferred using knives.  
He liked to go slow, stretch it out.  
(she shudders)  
And when he was really into it, he  
Would hum Led Zeppelin songs.

We watch SAM react with recognition.

LEXI (O.C.)  
(voice choked)  
When he hummed “Kashmir”, I knew it  
was going to be a very bad day.

LEXI pushes the food carelessly aside and lays her head and arms on the table.

LEXI  
I’m so tired. So tired. And I can’t  
sleep; I have nightmares all the time.  
I just want it all to stop.  
(lifts her head)  
And you want to know what’s funny?  
I can’t even kill myself now! I mean,  
isn’t that hilarious?

LEXI’S laugh turns into a sob, and she lays her head back down  
on the table to cry. SAM sits at the table and puts one hand  
awkwardly on LEXI’S shoulder.

SAM  
I’m sorry, Miss Jones. If there’s  
anything I can do to help . . .

LEXI raises her head and looks at SAM.

 

LEXI  
What is the matter with me? I mean,  
Shouldn’t I be happy? I was in hell  
and now I’m free. I should be happy.  
But . . .  
(choked voice)  
All I can feel is this pressure  
Building up in my chest until I feel  
like I can’t breathe; like time is  
running out. Like there’s something  
I must do, something I was brought  
back to do, and I don’t know what it  
is, but everything depends on it.

SAM  
You think you were brought back to  
do something?

LEXI  
I don’t know. I don’t know. God, I  
hate not knowing! I hate feeling  
this way!  
(to self)  
I just want to feel . . . something  
good again. I can’t remember what  
good feels like.

SAM  
It will get better, Miss Jones; I  
Promise you. Just give it time.

LEXI  
You know, you’re a really bad liar.  
(beat)  
How long was I really there . . .  
in hell?

SAM  
(reluctantly)  
I would guess around . . . two  
hundred years or so.

LEXI  
And now I’m supposed to what— just  
go on with my life? Go back to the  
morning shift at the IHOP and  
worrying if I’m paying too much for  
car insurance?

Uncomfortable silence.

LEXI (CONT’D)  
He made me the same offer, you know.  
The other one, with the voice.

LEXI shivers slightly.

SAM  
The same offer? You mean the one to  
Dean?

LEXI  
Yes, of course; the job offer. He  
made it to me more than a dozen  
times.

SAM  
You were never tempted to take it?

LEXI  
Believe me, I was tempted. Once, I  
even agreed to. And I tried to, I  
really did.  
(beat)  
But I just couldn’t. Couldn’t do a  
thing. Do you know, I was actually  
relieved when they strapped me back  
to the table.  
(sighs)  
That’s why I can’t blame your  
brother for what he did; not really.  
I would have done the same, if I’d  
had his strength.

SAM  
You think what he did took strength?  
He broke . . .  
(bitterly)  
and he’s still broken.

LEXI  
Maybe so. But I think if we just  
Give ourselves chance to heal, we  
end up stronger in our broken places.

SAM  
Some breaks never heal.

LEXI  
Have you ever done any drawing, Sam?

SAM  
(confused by the subject change)  
Drawing? Like with pencils?

LEXI  
I always preferred pastels; so  
vibrant. Such beautiful hues. I had  
my favorites, too; the colors I  
returned to again and again. They’d  
grow soft and rounded as I used them,  
so sometimes I’d just snap them in  
two in order to regain that sharp,  
hard edge.  
(beat)  
I think God with humans is like me  
with my pastels. Some of us He uses,  
some He ignores . . . and some of us  
He breaks, to sharpen our edges so  
we may better serve His purpose.

SAM  
Then he’s a bastard.

LEXI  
(sighs)  
No, He’s an artist. And an artist  
doesn’t ask His materials what they  
want to be, or whether they are  
happy.  
(wearily)  
We serve His purpose; how we feel  
about doing it is not His concern.

SAM  
You’ll get no argument from me.

LEXI looks closely at SAM; she likes what she sees.

LEXI  
Thank you, Sam. It feels so much  
better to be able to talk about all  
of this with someone who actually  
believes me. You have no idea what a  
relief it is. My parents would have  
me committed if they heard any of  
this.

SAM  
I’m glad I’ve been some help to you,  
Miss—

LEXI  
Enough with the Miss Joneses, Sam.

SAM  
(nodding)  
Lexi, then.

SAM notices LEXI yawning, and rises.

SAM  
I should probably head out and let  
You get some sleep.

 

LEXI  
Sam, wait. I don’t suppose you’d be  
willing to spend the night here?

SAM looks surprised, and LEXI blushes.

LEXI (CONT’D)  
(quietly embarrassed)  
I didn’t mean that—

SAM  
It’s okay, I didn’t—

LEXI  
I just . . . I just don’t want to be  
alone tonight, you know? I feel  
better when you’re here.  
(gestures to the made bed)  
See—you’ve got your own bed and  
everything. You’re perfectly safe  
from me.

LEXI smiles weakly at her own joke, and SAM laughs.  
He hesitates, and then nods.

SAM  
Okay. I’ll stay. But only if you let  
me buy you breakfast tomorrow.

END OF ACT ONE  
ACT TWO

EXT. TUMBLEWEED INN — PARKING LOT — MORNING

POV. – waist high; the grill of the IMPALA rumbles into view and dies.  
Pan down the driver’s side as the door opens and SAM steps out.  
SAM walks to the door of a room and inserts the keycard.

INT. TUMBLEWEED INN—ROOM 115—MORNING

Typical cheap motel room. Neither bed has been slept in.  
DEAN is not there. As SAM enters—

SAM  
Dean? Dammit . . .

SAM pulls out his phone, dials. Listens.

SAM  
Dean, pick your panties up from some  
chickie’s floor, get dressed, take  
an aspirin, and return a friggin’  
call.

SAM hangs up; dials again. Listens.

SAM  
Cass, I don’t suppose you’ve been  
rescuing more souls from hell in  
your spare time? I need to find out  
anything you know about Alexandra  
Jones; I’m in room 115 of the  
Tumbleweed Inn in Moses Lake,  
Washington.

SAM opens his laptop. We watch him google “Alexandra Jones.”

CUT TO:

INT. BALI HI MOTEL — LEXI’S ROOM — MORNING

LEXI brushes her teeth at the sink; she rinses and spits.  
There is a knock at the door. She goes to answer the door.

LEXI  
Sam?

LEXI opens the door on ZACHARIAH, smiling.

ZACHARIAH  
Be not afraid.

ZACHARIAH touches LEXI on the forehead.

WHITEOUT.

INT. DUNGEON — MORNING

LEXI and ZACHARIAH appear in a flash of white light, LEXI gasping  
with surprise. She looks around in shock. She and the angel are in  
a single room dungeon of the 1930’s asylum variety; a mixture of  
torture devices and antique medical equipment adorn peeling, institutional  
style walls. There is a table in the middle of the room. DEAN is  
held to the table by a series of canvas straps and buckles.

ZACHARIAH  
Have you missed me, Dean?

DEAN  
(hasn’t seen LEXI yet)  
You son of a bitch. I killed you.  
You’re dead.

ZACHARIAH  
Dean, Dean . . .

ZACHARIAH touches DEAN on the forehead, but this time only to  
poke him with annoyance.

I’m an angel. I have more resources  
than you can possibly imagine. You  
think I’d let a meatsack like you  
dispatch me for good? Not likely.

DEAN  
So you made a deal with a demon, you  
lousy piece of—

ZACHARIAH strikes DEAN across the face, silencing him.

ZACHARIAH  
I don’t make deals with demons, Dean.  
I think you might be confusing me  
with your brother. Or yourself.

 

ZACHARIAH strolls around DEAN, smiling.

ZACHARIAH  
But I didn’t bring you here to talk  
about me, Dean; this is about you.  
In fact, I brought you a visitor.

LEXI steps into DEAN’S line of sight, her face blank. DEAN blanches.

ZACHARIAH  
Now don’t be rude, Dean. Say hello  
to your guest-- I believe you’ve met  
before.

DEAN  
(to ZACHARIAH)  
I knew you were a sick son of a  
bitch, but I can’t believe you’d  
sink this low, Zac. You’re using  
humans now? Gonna have this poor  
girl go all payback on my ass?  
What’s the matter—can’t do the  
wetworks yourself?

ZACHARIAH  
Well, as stimulating as this has  
been, I really must be going.  
(smiles evilly)  
I can see you two are eager to begin  
reminiscing about the good old days.

ZACHARIAH disappears with the expected flapping sound.

POV.— DEAN’S. He looks around, but LEXI has stepped out of his line of sight.  
We hear subtle clinking sounds, of tools being moved.

LEXI suddenly appears at DEAN’S left shoulder. She is holding a large,  
uniquely ugly knife, and looking at it thoughtfully.

LEXI  
I remember this knife. It was one of  
your favorites, wasn’t it, Dean?

LEXI shows the knife to DEAN. A beat.

LEXI  
Wasn’t it?

 

DEAN  
I’m not playing games with you, so  
just get on with it; do whatever you  
need to do.

LEXI  
(whispering)  
I’m not playing games, either.  
(beat)  
Do you remember me?

DEAN  
So, you’re looking for a confession?  
What difference does it make at this  
point?

LEXI  
It makes a difference to me.

DEAN  
Why? Nothing I can say can change  
what happened to you.

LEXI  
What happened to me? You happened  
to me. Why can’t you admit it?

DEAN  
Admit what? That I did things I  
regret? That I hurt people? That I  
hurt you? Would that change anything?

LEXI  
It might. If you meant it.

DEAN  
That’s bullcrap. Nothing changes.

LEXI  
You don’t think that admission can  
lead to forgiveness?

DEAN  
I’m not looking for forgiveness.

 

LEXI  
(letting it go for now)  
All right then, just answer the  
question. Do you remember me?

DEAN  
(beat)  
What do you want me to say?

LEXI  
The truth.

DEAN laughs without humor.

DEAN  
The truth is seriously over-rated.

LEXI  
(intensely)  
Do . . .you . . . remember me?

A beat. DEAN’S expression is reluctantly bitter.

DEAN  
I remember you.

LEXI sighs at DEAN’S admission.

LEXI  
Do you remember what you called me?

DEAN winces; he remembers.

LEXI (CONT’D)  
Tell me what you called me.

DEAN  
Don’t do this. Please.

LEXI  
You said I was . . . what?

DEAN  
(growling)  
. . . special.

LEXI  
(echoing)  
Special.

LEXI leans down and whispers in DEAN’S ear.

LEXI  
And how did you greet me every day?  
I want to hear you say it again.

DEAN  
You really don’t.

LEXI  
Just say it.

DEAN  
. . . How’s my special girl?

LEXI shudders and steps out of DEAN’S sight again.

POV. DEAN on the table, looking around the room.

LEXI (O.C.)  
You never said why, though; do you  
know that? You never told me why I  
was special; why you picked me.

DEAN  
I never picked you; you were  
assigned to me.

LEXI (O.C.)  
(impatiently)  
Why, Dean?

LEXI appears at DEAN’S right shoulder.

LEXI  
Why was I special?

DEAN shakes his head, unwilling to speak. LEXI leans over him.

LEXI  
Tell me why.

DEAN  
(thickly)  
No, I’m not saying any more. Just  
get on with it, already.

LEXI looks sadly at DEAN, and tosses the knife to the floor.

LEXI  
I’m not going to hurt you.

DEAN  
(disbelieving)  
Fine with me; unstrap me, then.

LEXI  
(softly)  
Please, Dean. Please tell me why.

DEAN  
No.

LEXI  
Does it feel good to hear me beg  
again?

DEAN flinches and closes his eyes.

LEXI  
(patiently; prepared to go on forever)  
Please, Dean. Please.

DEAN  
(anguished)  
Don’t make me tell you.

LEXI  
I need to know.

A heavy silence fills the room as DEAN wrestles with his conscience.

DEAN  
You were the only one I couldn’t  
break.

We slowly move in on DEAN’S face as he speaks, his expression  
full of self-loathing.

DEAN  
I . . . tortured . . . thousands. . .  
and I was good at it, too.  
(with desperate humor)  
Best stats in Alastair’s whole  
division. But you-

DEAN (CONT’D)  
No matter what I did, no matter what  
I tried, you just wouldn’t break-

A beat.

DEAN (CONT’D)  
And oh, how I wanted to break you.

DEAN looks LEXI in the eyes. LEXI’S expression is a mix of horror and pity.  
DEAN’S expression is guilt-stricken and at the same time, relieved;  
he wants to confess now.

DEAN (CONT’D)  
Alastair used to ride me about  
you, all the time.  
(imitates the Brando voice)  
What’s the matter, Dean? Can’t even  
break a little girl?  
(shakes head)  
He never knew how hard I tried.  
I mean, I tried everything with you;  
and I got inventive. Did more to you  
than any other two souls combined.  
But you took everything I threw at  
you.  
(beat)  
I don’t know how you managed to . . .  
what I did to you, I never could  
have endured.  
(laughs without humor)  
And I hated you for that. Hated you  
for being stronger than me. Hated  
you for messing up my stats.  
(beat)  
I never knew how much of a . . .  
monster I was, how much evil I was  
really capable of, until I met you.  
I hated you for that, too. Which of  
course only made me worse.  
(grimaces)  
I even used to bitch that you liked  
what I did to you.

LEXI  
(whispering)  
Did you believe that?

A beat.  
DEAN  
No. It was just something I told  
myself to make it easier . . . to  
hurt you.

LEXI stares down at DEAN, her expression grieving. She sighs.

LEXI  
Thank you, Dean. I’ve been wondering  
about that for a long time.

LEXI looks down at the knife on the floor.

POV.- The other side of the table DEAN is lying on. LEXI can be seen  
through the legs of the table. She bends and slowly picks up the knife.  
The camera stays on LEXI as she rises and looks down at DEAN on the table.

CUT TO:

INT. --TUMBLEWEED INN—ROOM 115— NOON

We see SAM sitting at the table, reading from his laptop.

CASTIEL (O.C.)  
Hello, Sam.

SAM jumps slightly and rolls his eyes at the perpetual annoyance  
of CASTIEL’S sudden appearances.

SAM  
So, did you get my message? Do you  
know who brought Lexi back from hell?

 

CASTIEL  
Yes. And no. It could have been any  
of the angels; any of us passing  
over the pit would have spotted Lexi  
Jones and raised her up. What is far  
more troubling to me is how she got  
there in the first place.

SAM  
What do you mean?

CASTIEL  
Lexi Jones is a Martyr of the Lord,  
Sam.

SAM is surprised and confused.

SAM  
A martyr? Are you kidding me?

CASTIEL  
It would be profane to joke about  
the suffering of the Martyrs, Sam.

SAM  
Lexi told me she wasn’t religious;  
she’s agnostic.

CASTIEL  
Faith does not require a  
denomination.

SAM  
What exactly does a martyr do?

CASTIEL  
The Martyrs are holy men —or in  
this case, women— who are chosen by  
God to suffer, in order to provide  
an example of faith for the benefit  
of the rest of humanity. When Lexi  
Jones was murdered, she should have  
gone directly to heaven.

SAM  
No passing go or collecting two  
hundred dollars, huh?

CASTIEL looks puzzled and SAM shrugs, moving on.

SAM (CONT’D)  
So how’d she end up in hell?

CASTIEL  
At birth, each Martyr is assigned an  
angel tasked with watching over them.

SAM  
Like with Chuck?

 

CASTIEL  
No. Martyrs are neither succored nor  
protected from harm. The angel’s  
sole charge is to observe the events  
of the Martyr’s life and convey  
their souls to Heaven after their  
death.

SAM  
So what happened with Lexi?

CASTIEL  
The angel assigned to Lexi Jones  
is nowhere to be found. We must  
surmise he has been either subverted  
or killed.  
(shakes head)  
This is unprecedented; no Martyr  
could have fallen off Heaven’s radar  
for so long if Heaven were not in  
it’s current state of chaos.

SAM  
But why would someone want to take  
Lexi to hell in the first place?

CASTIEL  
It would be pointless, from a  
demon’s point of view. The faith of  
a Martyr is considered unshakable;  
to corrupt one would take something  
. . . extreme.

 

END OF ACT TWO

 

 

 

 

ACT THREE

INT. DUNGEON—CONTINUOUS

LEXI stands over Dean with the knife in her hand. When DEAN  
sees the knife, he tenses for a moment, then relaxes and looks almost relieved.

DEAN  
All right, then. Let’s get on with  
it. There’s nothing you can do to me  
I don’t deserve.  
(steels himself)  
I’m ready.

LEXI  
Is that what you believe? That you  
deserve to be tortured for what you  
did?

DEAN  
Don’t you believe it? How can you of  
all people have any doubt? You saw  
the monster in me more than anyone.

LEXI  
You’re right, Dean. No one knows  
better than me what you are capable  
of doing-  
(whispering)  
And you are capable of monstrous,  
terrible things. But you are not a  
monster. You are a man.

DEAN  
How can you say that? Would a man  
torture another human being the way  
I tortured you?

LEXI laughs sadly.

LEXI  
Yes, Dean, he would. In fact, only  
a human would do as you did; it’s  
why the demons had you doing it in  
the first place.

DEAN  
What do you mean?

LEXI  
I was in hell a long time, Dean; you  
can’t help but hear things. The  
demons recruit humans because human  
souls make the best torturers of  
other human souls— it’s a whole  
“only the wearer knows where the  
shoe pinches” kind of thing, I guess.  
(beat)  
So you see, doing what you did kind  
of proves you’re human.

DEAN  
(thoughtfully)  
That makes sense in a way, I guess—  
(shakes his head)  
Wait-- stop it! This is crazy! What  
Are you saying? That you understand?  
That you don’t mind that I tortured  
you for ten years?

LEXI  
What if that’s true? What if I’ve  
forgiven you?

DEAN  
(harshly)  
You can’t. There’s no forgiveness  
for what I’ve done.

LEXI  
But that’s not your call to make, is  
it? What if I don’t want to carry  
the burden of hating you around  
anymore? What if I decide to just  
. . . let it go?

DEAN  
You wouldn’t feel that way if you  
knew the worst.

LEXI  
What don’t I know? What haven’t  
you told me?

 

DEAN  
The real truth . . . the last truth.  
I’m going to tell you this, and then  
you’ll understand why I deserve your  
hatred.  
(beat)  
I hurt you because, because I wanted  
you. And I wanted you from the first  
moment I laid eyes on you . . . and  
I knew I couldn’t have you.

LEXI  
(bewildered)  
But you could have . . . at any time,  
you could have. I was helpless.

DEAN  
(growling)  
NO. That’s not what I wanted. I  
wanted . . . what I couldn’t have.  
Alastair knew it, too; he called you  
my “crush.” He tried to get me to  
just . . . take you. But I wouldn’t.  
(shakes his head)  
I’ve never done that; I couldn’t.  
(laughs with irony)  
So I punished you instead. Because  
torture is so much more moral than  
rape.

DEAN’S laughs again, but his eyes are filled with tears.  
One slides down his cheek.

DEAN  
I tortured you for ten years because  
Alastair laughed at me about you,  
and I just had to prove him wrong.  
Now do you see what I am?

LEXI  
I see what you are.

LEXI looks thoughtfully at DEAN, then suddenly realizes she is still  
holding the knife. She turns and carefully puts the knife back where she found it  
on the wall. When she turns back around, she’s holding a set of keys.  
She sets the key and unlocks the band across DEAN’S chest.

 

DEAN  
(astonished)  
What are you doing?

LEXI moves quickly around the table, unlocking straps as she goes.  
She steps back as she releases the last, and DEAN sits up slowly,  
unable to believe what is happening. He slides gingerly off the table.

DEAN  
You’re letting me go?

LEXI nods silently.

DEAN  
Why?

LEXI  
Because it would be wrong to hurt  
you. You’ve been hurt enough.

DEAN is having difficulty wrapping his mind around this turn of events.

DEAN  
Is this a trick? This is some kind  
of trick.

LEXI  
No.

DEAN  
Zachariah’s using you to try and  
drive me crazy; only  
(looking around, shouting)  
It’s not gonna work!

LEXI  
It’s no trick, Dean. Sam told me  
what happened to you in hell. I  
don’t blame you for anything you did;  
not anymore. It wasn’t your fault.

DEAN  
What are you saying?

LEXI  
I’m saying . . . I forgive you.

DEAN  
NO! You can’t forgive me; not after  
everything I did to you. There’s no  
forgiveness for that. There can’t be.

LEXI  
It’s over now.

DEAN  
It’s never over!

DEAN swiftly approaches LEXI. She backs nervously into a corner.

DEAN  
(bitterly)  
I’m not a monster, huh? Then why are  
you afraid of me?

LEXI  
I’m not afraid of you.

DEAN grasps LEXI by the upper arms.

DEAN  
Yes you are. And you should be.

DEAN pushes LEXI against one of the walls.

DEAN  
Do you think a day goes by, an hour,  
that I don’t think about the things  
I did in hell? Hell was yesterday!  
You may say I’m not a monster, but  
you don’t know monsters the way I do.  
You don’t know what it is to feel  
blood on your hands all the time,  
and know you can never wash it all  
away, that you can never be clean  
again.

LEXI looks at DEAN with compassion and sorrow; she is near tears.

LEXI  
You’re not a monster, Dean.

 

DEAN  
How do you know what I am, huh? What  
if I told you I enjoyed hurting you?  
Would that make me a monster?

LEXI  
I’m so sorry, Dean.

DEAN  
You’re sorry? You’re sorry? For me?  
I tortured you!  
(shakes LEXI again)  
The things I did to you— you should  
hate me. You should despise me!

LEXI  
(whispering)  
I don’t. Please let me go.

DEAN freezes, and suddenly realizes what he is doing to LEXI.  
He releases her, and sees the marks on her arms from where he gripped her.  
DEAN’S mouth hangs open; his face is a mask of horror over his own actions.  
DEAN slowly collapses to his knees in front of LEXI and hangs his head.

DEAN  
I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry-

LEXI looks at him with compassion. She hesitates, and then  
lays one hand on the top of his head, like a blessing.

LEXI  
It’s all right, Dean.

DEAN kneels at LEXI’S feet, shoulders shaking with what might be sobs.  
After a bit, hesitantly, LEXI kneels and looks at DEAN with pity and compassion.  
Unable to watch him suffer, LEXI slowly puts her arms around DEAN  
and embraces him. She rocks DEAN slowly, murmuring comfort.

LEXI (CONT’D)  
(crooning)  
Shhh . . . it’s all right. It’s over  
now; you’ll never have to do that  
again. It’s okay. Shhhh . . .

DEAN  
I’m so sorry, please-

LEXI  
I know. I’m sorry, too.

DEAN raises his head. LEXI slowly releases him from her embrace  
and sits back on her heels, but she keeps one hand comfortingly on his shoulder.  
DEAN rubs away any evidence of tears; his eyes are bloodshot.  
He stares in wonder at LEXI.

POV.- DEAN’S. He is looking at LEXI; she seems to be surrounded by a warm, beatific light.  
She is smiling gently, and there are tears in her eyes. The warm light fades.

DEAN  
(voice choked)  
Why are you sorry?

LEXI  
Because they used me to hurt you,  
Dean.  
(shakes head)  
I’m sorry about that.

DEAN is beginning to recover from his breakdown; his voice is gruff  
as he struggles for self-control.

DEAN  
That wasn’t your fault.

LEXI  
I know. But I’m sorry all the same.

DEAN  
How can you apologize to me? How  
can you forgive me?

LEXI  
(shrugs; self-deprecating)  
I guess I’m just kind of stupid that  
way.

DEAN lets out a short laugh, and LEXI smiles with him.

LEXI  
I was never one for holding  
grudges.  
(beat)  
So do you forgive me?

 

DEAN  
Of course. There’s nothing to  
forgive.

LEXI  
Then will you do me a favor?  
(DEAN nods)  
Will you at least try to start  
forgiving yourself?

DEAN gives another reluctant laugh.

DEAN  
This is beginning to sound like  
therapy.  
(smiles weakly)  
Are you sure you’re not trying to  
torture me?

LEXI laughs softly and DEAN laughs with her; they are sharing a moment  
of impossible intimacy, and they are both aware of it.

LEXI  
(smiling)  
You know something?

DEAN’S face is awestruck as he stares at LEXI, who is again  
surrounded by the warm light. LEXI reaches out and cups DEAN’S cheek  
lovingly in the palm of her hand.

LEXI  
I think we’re both going to be okay.  
FADE OUT.

 

END OF ACT THREE

 

 

 

 

ACT FOUR

INT. – DUNGEON — AFTERNOON

DEAN is dreaming; flashes of screams and of blood. He wakes;  
he is lying on the floor of the dungeon, alone.  
DEAN stands and walks to the door; he opens it and goes outside.

EXT. - TILLAMOOK TRAILER COURT — AFTERNOON

DEAN looks around. The exterior of the DUNGEON is a shabby single-wide trailer  
in a run down trailer park. DEAN pulls his phone from his pocket and dials.

CUT TO:

EXT. TUMBLEWEED INN — PARKING LOT — AFTERNOON

SAM is approaching the Impala as he’s answering his phone.

SAM  
Dean, where the hell have you been?

CUT TO:

EXT. — TILLAMOOK TRAILER COURT — CONTINUED

DEAN  
Just come get me; I’ll tell you when  
you get here.

SERIES OF SHORT CUTS OF THE IMPALA.  
Sam getting behind the wheel.  
The grill of the IMPALA as the engine roars into life.  
Tires screeching to a halt in gravel.  
Low perspective shot of DEAN’S boots and the passenger door opening.  
Tail-lights flashing and a spray of gravel as the car takes off.

INT. – THE IMPALA — AFTERNOON

DEAN is in the passenger seat for a change; SAM is driving.  
DEAN is trying to wrap his head around what SAM has told him.

DEAN  
So she’s a martyr?

` SAM  
According to Cass. Lexi was raised  
from hell by an angel, but he hasn’t  
been able to find out who.  
DEAN  
It was Zachariah.

SAM  
Wait— didn’t you kill him?

DEAN  
Tell me about it. Zac snatched me  
last night and put me in the middle  
of a dungeon, and brought Lexi there  
to torture me, the sick bastard.  
(beat)  
Lucky for me, she wasn’t able to do  
it; she let me go.

SAM  
Of course she couldn’t torture  
anyone. Cas said all the Martyrs  
were “eternally innocent.” It takes  
something truly extreme to corrupt  
one.

DEAN  
Huh. So why would Zac try to corrupt  
a Martyr? It doesn’t make any sense.

SAM  
Where’s Lexi now?

DEAN  
I don’t know; when I woke up, she  
was gone.

SAM  
(puzzled)  
When you woke up? In that trailer  
park?

DEAN  
Let’s focus on what’s important here.  
Zachariah may not be too pleased  
that his plan failed; he might have  
grabbed her again. We need to find  
Lexi.

SAM  
If she’s on her own, I doubt she  
went to her parents’. We should  
check her motel room first.

DEAN  
Let’s go.

SAM  
You don’t want to take the wheel?

DEAN looks out the passenger window, brooding, and gestures silently  
to SAM to move forward. SAM looks worried about this uncharacteristic behavior  
as he turns the IMPALA around and  
accelerates.

EXT. BALI HI MOTEL — PARKING LOT — AFTERNOON

The IMPALA pulls up to the curb; SAM and DEAN walk to the door of LEXI’S room.

INT. BALI HI MOTEL — LEXI’S ROOM — AFTERNOON

POV.– Same as before; the door opens slowly and SAM and DEAN are standing in the doorway.  
They react with surprise and recognition.

ZACHARIAH (O.C.)  
Good afternoon, boys. I was  
expecting you.

DEAN pushes past SAM into the room as ZACHARIAH sardonically gestures,  
welcoming them in. SAM follows.

DEAN  
All right, Zac, where is she? If  
you’ve done anything to her—

ZACHARIAH  
Oh, please, Dean. You are hardly in  
a position to act as Lexi’s  
protector, are you? I am the one who  
rescued Lexi from the pit. You are  
the moron who tortured her for ten  
years.

DEAN

Yeah, I’m sure you have her best  
interests at heart; that’s why you  
put her in that room to torture me.

ZACHARIAH laughs.

ZACHARIAH  
It amazes me sometimes that the two  
of you are able to feed and dress  
yourselves.  
(pointedly, to DEAN)  
I didn’t put the Martyr in that room  
to torture you, chucklehead. I put  
her in that room to do exactly what  
she did.  
(smiles)  
And I have to say, you performed  
your part spectacularly, Dean.

DEAN blanches as he realizes what ZACHARIAH is saying. SAM looks puzzled.

ZACHARIAH (CONT’D)  
We may have given up on you, Dean,  
but the bloodline still belongs to  
us. Normally it’s not difficult to  
maintain; you human males spray your  
genetic material around like fire  
hydrants. But this bloodline  
requires a worthy receptacle--  
(smiles nastily)  
And unfortunately you, Dean  
Winchester, have the most appalling  
taste in females.  
(confidentially)  
I mean really, Dean; that cocktail  
waitress in Des Moines? What were  
you thinking?

DEAN expression is embarrassed and nettled. SAM is listening  
with a look of disbelief on his face.

ZACHARIAH (CONT’D)  
So imagine my delight when the  
Martyr was brought to my attention.

ZACHARIAH laughs maliciously at DEAN. He seats himself comfortably  
in an armchair that has magically appeared. DEAN glowers at the angel.

 

 

ZACHARIAH (CONT’D)  
Lexi was Alastair’s favorite joke on  
you, Dean. It’s hilarious when you  
think about it. He snatched that  
Martyr and gave her to you knowing  
you could never break her-  
(laughs)  
and you, Charlie Brown, just  
couldn’t stop trying to kick that  
football. You know, you’re the  
laughingstock of the entire pit.

DEAN, enraged, takes a few steps towards ZACHARIAH, who stops  
him with a casual gesture.

ZACHARIAH (CONT’D)  
Down, boy. So when I heard about the  
Martyr, I knew this was just too  
perfect an opportunity to miss. All  
I had to do was raise her and bring  
the two of you together; I knew  
you’d never be able to resist her.  
(beat)  
You surprised me, though; I didn’t  
expect you to be so . . . tender.  
(laughs)  
Or so generous.

DEAN glowers with hatred at ZACHARIAH as SAM drops wearily into a chair  
and puts his head in his hands.

SAM  
(heavily, to DEAN)  
Dean, you slept with Lexi? You had  
sex with the girl you used to torture?

DEAN  
It’s none of your business, Sam!

ZACHARIAH  
(chuckling)  
Oh, I beg to differ, Dean.

SAM gives ZACHARIAH a look; he knows the angel knows what happened.

SAM  
(hesitantly)  
Dean—

DEAN  
You’ve got no room to judge me, Sam.  
What happened with Lexi and me, it  
was just . . . it just happened.

SAM  
Apparently not, Dean! Apparently it  
was ordained by the forces of heaven!

DEAN  
(uncomfortably)  
Whatever you want to call it, Sam,  
it was between two consenting adults,  
so it’s nobody else’s business.

SAM  
(reluctantly)  
. . . Three consenting adults.

ZACHARIAH laughs heartily as DEAN stares at SAM, stunned. SAM blushes.

DEAN  
Dude-

ZACHARIAH  
(jovially)  
Yes, ain’t lust grand! I had  
arranged for Lexi to tempt you, Dean;  
it hadn’t occurred to me that she  
might appeal to both of the  
Winchesters, or vice versa.  
(smirks)  
Sam’s . . . contribution last night  
was definitely an unexpected bonus;  
a two-for-one deal, if you will. So,  
you can tell me, boys—  
(leans forward conspiratorially)  
Is she as delicious as she looks?

DEAN looks at ZACHARIAH with loathing, ignoring the question. He turns to SAM.

DEAN  
(doubtfully)  
Both of us?

 

ZACHARIAH  
You are such the prude, Dean. Lexi’s  
a Martyr, not a Saint.  
(rises)  
Well, it’s been a pleasure as always,  
boys.

SAM rises swiftly.

SAM  
Wait! Where’s Lexi?

ZACHARIAH  
No place you two idiots will find  
her, you may be certain. The Martyr  
is no longer any of your concern.  
(thoughtfully)  
I only hope the Jones’ brothers will  
be a tad more tractable than the  
Winchesters have been.  
(shrugs)  
But I suppose that will all depend  
on who ends up rearing them.

DEAN  
What do you mean? What’s going to  
happen to Lexi?

ZACHARIAH  
(coldly)  
Don’t be naïve, Dean. She’ll do what  
Martyrs always do, of course.

DEAN and SAM exchange horrified glances as ZACHARIAH disappears  
to the sound of flapping wings. DEAN looks around the room for a moment,  
then turns and looks accusingly at SAM.

DEAN  
You jumped Lexi?

SAM  
It wasn’t like that. She was having  
trouble sleeping, and she didn’t  
want to be alone, so she asked me to  
stay. What happened after that . . .  
just happened.

DEAN clearly doesn’t like SAM’S answer, but he reluctantly accepts it  
for the sake of fairness and addresses the larger issue.

DEAN  
Well, you heard him; the mooks are  
just going to let her die. We have  
to find Lexi.

SAM  
(shrugs helplessly)  
Okay . . . but how?

DEAN’S expression shows that he has no idea how to answer SAM’S question.

CUT TO:

EXT. PUDASJÄRVI, FINLAND — A FARMHOUSE — AFTERNOON

CHYRON: PUDASJÄRVI, NORTHERN OSTROBOTHNIA, FINLAND.

Setting: a snow-covered country landscape. There is a flash of white angel light,  
and ZACHARIAH and LEXI are suddenly standing beside a sedan. ZACHARIAH is in  
an expensive business overcoat; LEXI is in a long white wool pea coat. The two  
are looking at a farmhouse; it is old, but inviting, and warmly lit from within.

When LEXI and ZACHARIAH speak to one another, they speak in FINNISH;  
their dialog will be SUBTITLED IN ENGLISH.

ZACHARIAH  
This will be the perfect place for  
you to convalesce, my dear. It’s  
peaceful and quiet; just what you  
need to recover from your accident.

LEXI  
I can’t thank you enough for your  
kindness, doctor. You don’t know how  
terrible it is, not knowing who you  
are, or where you come from.

ZACHARIAH  
Don’t you worry about that. I’m  
Certain your memory will come back  
eventually; you just need to be  
patient.  
ZACHARIAH guestures at the farmhouse.

ZACHARIAH (CONT’D)  
In the meantime, you are welcome to  
stay here as long as you need to.  
(as LEXI shakes her head)  
I mean that, now. Remember, you’re  
not just making decisions for  
yourself anymore; you have the baby  
to think of.

LEXI  
But you’ve done so much for me  
already. I feel like I’m taking  
advantage of you.

ZACHARIAH  
Don’t be ridiculous, my dear.  
(smiles)  
I wouldn’t dream of letting you get  
away now.

BLACKOUT.

END OF ACT FOUR


End file.
